


Meet Cute

by patentlyhazel



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, One Shot, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24981256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patentlyhazel/pseuds/patentlyhazel
Summary: When Gerard finds himself in a living Romantic Comedy with Frank only to be left with no way to see him again, film buff Mikey takes it upon himself to educate his older brother in the art of navigating a meet cute so he can finally get the guy.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	Meet Cute

“Holy shit, man, are you okay?”

For the first time in his adult life, Gerard was understanding why cartoons drew swirling stars above a character’s head when they were bumped in the noggin, so to speak. He was lying flat on his back on the hard ground, blinking as the bright sunlight and the possible concussion cast fuzzy spots into his line of sight. He felt a tug at his ankle and then something warm and slightly slimy wiped across his cheek, leaving behind a wet stripe that smelled like dog food.

“Lois, stop that!”

As his vision cleared, Gerard saw a heavily tattooed hand from above him swatting at something to his left. Wincing at the dull ache, he tilted his head and looked over to see a large dog panting happily. As he made eye contact with the mutt, she lunged forward and tried to lick him again, but the hand jolted forward to stop the dog, a strong torso following it and casting a shadow over Gerard’s face.

“Lois, no! Dude, seriously though, are you alright?” Gerard blinked into focus and saw a pair of concerned eyes squinting down at him from above. He was upside down from Gerard’s perspective, which reminded the comic nerd of the famous Spider-Man kiss, only it wasn’t raining and he was pretty sure he’d just been knocked unconscious. He moved to sit up and suddenly the tattooed hand was back, offering help as he struggled to get off the ground.

“What happened,” he asked, pressing a palm to the back of his scalp and feeling for bumps or blood. Thankfully, he only felt the usual tangles of his constantly unkempt ‘do.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. Lois—my dog—I think she liked that dangly thing on your bag, there. That keychain? It kinda looks like her favorite toy and she just started freaking the fuck out. Took off after you, yanked the leash outta’ my hand and everything.” The guy was animated, his hands were flying with each word and Gerard’s head was aching as his eyes tried to keep up. “I don’t know how it happened but her leash got straight up stuck to your boot and she took you down. Hard. Seriously, I’m so sorry.”

Gerard looked down at his foot, and sure enough, the fabric of the dog’s leash was lodged under a buckle on the boots he’d stolen from Mikey a few months back. He made to reach down and untangle himself, but the guy was already there, propping Gerard’s calf up on his knee and attacking the leather with the surgical precision of a blind baboon.

“How’s your head, man?”

“What?” Everything was moving too fast for Gerard and he was struggling to keep up with Lois’s owner. The man seemed like he started his day with an IV drip of espresso, all jittery and talking a mile a minute out of the side of his mouth.

“Your head, dude. How is it? You smacked it on the ground pretty hard. It bounced and everything.”

“Shit.”

“Like, do you want me to call an ambulance? Do you need to go to the hospital? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“No, I’m fine, I think. And that’s a leash,” Gerard responded, nodding towards the man’s hand which was currently holding up the now-freed end of Lois’s leash instead of fingers.

“Rad. That was a trick question, but you passed. I’m Frank.”

“Gerard.”

“So, like, are you sure you don’t need a doctor or something? Maybe my phone number in case you need to sue me for your injuries?” Frank rocked back onto his feet to stand and reached out to help Gerard do the same. He felt Frank’s chaotic hands brushing dirt and grass frantically off the back of his jacket until they moved down to the seat of his pants. At that point, Frank seemed to realize he was halfway to feeling up Gerard’s ass and jumped back, stuffing his hands and the end of the leash into the pocket of his own jeans to keep them to himself.

“I’m alright, really. I’ll just take some aspirin when I get to my brother’s place.”

“Rad. Well, I’m really sorry again. I’ll try to keep a better grip on Lois if we see you again. Maybe get her another toy so she doesn’t go apeshit over keychains.”

“No worries, it was an accident. I guess I’ll see you around? Maybe?” Gerard gave a halfhearted awkward wave as he took a step back in the direction of Mikey’s apartment.

“Yeah, we’re at this park almost every day so, like, say hi next time.”

“Cool. Uh—bye!” He turned and practically fled towards Mikey’s building, cursing his inability to function properly in social situations the entire rest of the walk. He was still beating himself up over the awkward “goodbye” when he flung himself onto Mikey’s couch and recounted that morning’s incident.

“Well, was he hot,” Mikey asked, flinging a bag of frozen peas at his older brother from the small kitchen.

“I mean, yeah, but it’s not like I could’ve asked him on a date or anything. His dog practically killed me!” Mikey walked into the living room and unceremoniously shoved Gerard’s legs off the couch, sitting down next to him and turning on the TV.

“Why not? He offered to give you his number.”

“To sue him, he said. Not for a booty call. Besides, I wouldn’t have been able to string together enough of a sentence to ask him on a date—I was concussed!”

“Excuses,” Mikey muttered before turning his attention to the film he was supposed to be watching for his documentary class.

____________

As the weeks passed, the awkward encounter faded into a distant memory as Gerard scrambled to get one of his commissions done. He’d been up for 42 hours straight by the time he realized he needed some air. And some strong coffee. The Folgers he’d been mainlining was no longer chasing off the sleep threatening to take over. The early morning air was helping to wake him up by the time he got to the coffee shop by his apartment. He mumbled his order to the barista, waiting by the window until he heard his order called.

“Large double shot for Black Shirt Bedhead!” He’d always gotten a kick out of the way this coffee shop described their customers instead of using names. He was used to getting strange looks when he said his name only to wind up getting called “Jared,” so it was refreshing to go somewhere and only be known as “Emo Drum Major,” or “Holey Hoodie Batman!” He got to the counter and was about to grab his life blood in a cardboard travel cup when a familiar tattooed hand shot out and beat him to the punch. Looking up, he saw a pair of bright hazel eyes and a playful smirk staring back at him.

“Shit, maybe Lois did give you a concussion. This is my order—large double shot, and I’m pretty sure I’m Black Shirt Bedhead.” Frank grinned over at the exhausted man, ruffling one hand through his own messy hair.

“What makes you think I’m not Black Shirt Bedhead? That’s my order, too,” Gerard muttered stubbornly, flicking his eyes down to the cup in Frank’s grip. The punk was standing in the way of him and his caffeine addiction, not to mention he was beyond sleep deprived.

“Well, right now I’d describe you more as a cute vampire-looking motherfucker, probably an artist because you’re covered in paint. Like, I’m not sure your shirt can even be called black anymore.” Nonetheless, Frank held out the coffee for Gerard to take. “But you look dead tired, dude. Take this, I’ll get the next one. Besides, I almost killed you last time so I owe ya’.”

Gerard grabbed the coffee with a sheepish smile and took a big sip. As if on cue, the barista called out the next order which caused Gerard’s face to turn beet red.

“Large double shot for the Undead Picasso!”

“I’ll take that one,” Frank laughed, grabbing at the new cup that was sliding across the counter towards the pair.

“Sorry. Can I blame my lack of sleep?”

“Don’t worry about it, man. Like I said, I owe you. How’s the head?” They took a few awkward steps towards the door, getting out of the way as “Legally Blonde” approached the counter to get her medium nonfat white chocolate mocha.

“It’s alright. Nothing aspirin and an ice pack didn’t fix.”

“That’s good.” There was an awkward pause as another customer cut in between them, making a beeline towards his waiting coffee.

“I should probably get going. I’ve got a deadline and I’m really behind.”

“Same, I’ve got to get to work. It looks like we hang out in some of the same spots, though, so I’ll probably bump into you? Hopefully not literally—Lois already took care of that,” Frank said with a laugh. They walked to the door and Frank held it open for the sleepy artist, giving him a small wave as he took off in the opposite direction. It wasn’t until later, when Gerard had finished the commission and was crawling into bed to catch up on sleep that he realized what Frank had said while describing him in the coffee shop. Gerard grabbed his phone and quickly dialed Mikey before he self-destructed.

“He called me cute,” Gerard wailed into the speaker after his younger brother answered.

“What? You can’t expect me to read your mind over the phone, Gee. Who called you cute, and why are you making sound like his compliment gave you the clap?”

“Frank—Frank, the guy who’s dog gave me a concussion—he called me cute.”

“Wait, you’ve been talking to him?” There was a loud crunch on the other end of the line and Gerard could tell that Mikey was eating, probably with his mouth open like the heathen he was.

“No, I saw him in the coffee shop by my place.”

“And?”

“And I stole his drink and then he called me cute and I didn’t even realize until now! I was painting and I haven’t slept since, like, two days ago and he called me cute.”

“Well, did you get his number this time?”

Gerard paused, realizing that no, he did not get Frank’s number—yet again. His morose groan was enough to let Mikey know that Gerard was about to smack his head against the wall.

“I’m starting to think you were a test tube baby made from mice or lab meat or something. There’s no way you’re genetically my brother when you’re this bad at meet cutes. You’ve literally had two opportunities fall into your lap, provided by Cupid himself, and you’ve got nothing to show for it.”

“Fuck off!” He knew Mikey’s sense of humor was sarcastic, dry, and slightly insulting, but he was running on what felt like negative hours of sleep and was in no mood. “And what’s a meet cute, anyways? How can I be bad at something when I don’t even know what it is?”

“Well you don’t know what caber tossing is either, but I can guarantee you’re bad at it.”

“Oh, go fall in a hole. I’m going to sleep.”

____________

The following week, Gerard found himself sitting on Mikey’s couch with a stack of movies from Mikey’s extensive collection in front of him. Gerard had long since gotten rid of all of his DVDs and VHS tapes in favor of streaming and illegally downloading movies, but his film major little brother had a thing for physical copies. He had a spare bedroom with wall to wall bookcases full of all sorts of genres and Gerard had his suspicions that Mikey had somehow gotten his hands on an entire Blockbuster store when they’d gone out of business.

“So it literally means you met, and it was cute?”

“Yeah,” Mikey explained. “It’s a plot device that’s used to introduce two characters who are going to be romantically entwined. They’re mostly used in Rom-Coms, like, when two people get trapped in an elevator together or they end up jumping into the same taxi. Or, you know, when a hot guy’s dog knocks you down in a park or you have the same coffee order and your grumpy ass steals his drink.”

“Okay, okay, so Frank and I—those are meet cutes, and I suck at them. What am I supposed to do instead?”

“That’s what we’re doing today. I’m going to educate you on the art of a meet cute. It’s not like I’m getting this film degree for nothing, I’m going to be your Mr. Miyagi of _lurrrrrve_ ,” Mikey drawled.

“Wax on, wax off, motherfucker,” Gerard mused while Mikey popped in one of the DVDs from the stack.

After they’d managed to work their way through the opening scenes of over twenty Romantic Comedies, Gerard was starting to grasp the concept of how an embarrassing or awkward moment could turn into a relationship.

“I get how they’re happening, okay? But it’s not realistic. I’m not suave, I’m awkward. And not awkward like ‘still secretly hip under the adorable clumsiness and nerdery’ awkward—I’m awkward like I either have uncontrollable word vomit or stunted conversation and dead silences with no in between.”

“You just need practice. Rom-Coms are a hyperbolic version of reality, Gee. They take the best and worst parts and exaggerate them, but at their bare foundations there’s still the essence of realism. So next time you run into a hot guy like Frank, you’ve got to pretend you’re in a Rom-Com and turn the situation to your advantage.” Mikey stood up from the couch and started pacing in front of the exasperated artist. “If he calls you cute when you steal his coffee, tell him you’ll give him his drink back if you can get his number instead. When his dog knocks you out and he tries to give you his number so you can fake sue him, tell him you’ll leave the lawyers out of it if he takes you on a date. That’s how you navigate a meet-cute. That’s how you get your man.”

Gerard turned and flopped so he was face down on the couch and groaned loudly into the cushion Mikey had just vacated.

“How about we just give up hope and eat jellybeans instead. I can be a spinster. I’ll wear a wedding dress alone in my apartment for the rest of my life.”

“You realize Miss Havisham was in a relationship before she became a spinster. You can’t become her if you don’t find anyone to jilt you at the altar. But if you want some Jelly Belly’s, we’re going to have to go to the store. You ate all of the good ones last time so the only ones left are the cinnamon and tutti frutti.”

“Postmates?”

“I’m not paying the delivery fees so you can eat your feelings. Besides, I’m out of fruit snacks and energy drinks. We’ll get some supplies and have a horror movie marathon tonight to cheer you up. Sound kosher?”

Gerard only let out another groan into the cushion, so Mikey chucked shoes from the pile by the front door one by one at his brother until he’d finally grabbed a matching pair and tugged them onto his feet.

Once they were at the store, Gerard was pushing the cart while Mikey dropped junk food and other necessities into the metal basket. The younger brother was reading the back of a cereal box trying to make a decision between the Reeses Puffs and the Cinnamon Toast Crunch, so Gerard leaned heavily onto the handle of the cart while staring at the floor. He was counting the splotches on one of the multi-colored tiles when he’d noticed the laces on his right shoe had come untied. Instead of fixing it, he began kicking his foot in circles so the ragged lace flicked around his ankle like a whip.

“Oh my God, can you tie those? It’s driving me crazy and you’re going to end up tripping, Gee.”

As if on cue, the cart shifted forward and Gerard managed to step on the untied laces as he moved to catch it. In a spectacular visual that would have been brilliant in slow-motion, Gerard pitched forward and slammed into the handle of the cart, sending it hurtling down the empty aisle as he face planted onto the floor. He looked up just in time to watch in horror as the runaway cart crashed into a display rack of Cheez-Its and sent them tumbling along with the unsuspecting customer who’d just turned the corner.

“Jesus H., Gee,” Mikey said as he offered a hand to help his brother off the ground. Together, they ran over to the other customer who was currently seated in the middle of a pile of crushed red cracker boxes.

“Oh, hey! I should’ve known it was you,” Frank said with a grin as he looked up into Gerard’s increasingly red face. He stood and rubbed his most likely bruised hip before holding a hand out to Mikey. “I’m Frank.”

The look that Mikey shot Gerard while shaking Frank’s hand was wicked. Gerard could practically hear his younger brother shouting about meet-cutes in his mind, but all Gerard could focus on was the looping thought that he’d humiliated himself once again and tried to murder Frank with a shopping cart full of chips, cookies, frozen broccoli, and toilet paper.

“Mikey, Gee’s brother. I’m going to go find someone to tell them about this mess while you two catch up.” Mikey shot Gerard a sneaky thumbs up behind Frank’s back before disappearing around the corner of the aisle.

“Are you okay?” Gerard shoved his hands in his pocket and rocked back on his heels, sheepishly.

“I’m good, man. I guess I cursed us when I said we shouldn’t literally bump into each other next time.”

Gerard let out an awkward snort before he could catch himself, causing his face to heat up once again.

“I’m really sorry. I tripped on my shoelace.”

“Hey, it happens. No harm, no foul, unless you’re asking the Cheez-Its. Besides, I get to see you again so it’s worth it in my book.”

Gerard’s mind raced through his earlier lessons with Mikey, trying to find a flirty response, but all he could come up with was a sputtered, “I wanna read your book.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Gerard was hit with a wave of mortification and he stared at Frank with panicked eyes.

The punk let out an uncharacteristic giggle.

“I can’t promise it’s an exciting read, but you can flip my pages anytime you want,” he said, shooting an exaggerated, suggestive eyebrow wiggle at the blushing artist. “So, what are you up to today, besides shopping for groceries?”

Gerard choked on his tongue that had gone heavy in his mouth with Frank’s flirting, leaving Frank to slap his back while he coughed up what felt like half his lung. “Uh—just, uh—we’re going to watch some horror movies. Me and Mikey. That’s why we’re here—for snacks,” Gerard managed to get out once he’d caught his breath.

“Rad. You like scary movies?” Gerard nodded. “Me too.”

They fell into another awkward silence as Gerard shuffled his weight from foot to foot.

“So, do you know what movies you’re going to watch tonight?”

“Uh—Mikey’s pushing for _The Village_ —he says it’s been unfairly judged. But, uh, I kind of want to watch _The Thing_.”

“Oh God, I haven’t seen that in forever. That movie freaked me out when I was a kid! It would be cool to watch it again.” Frank’s voice pitched up with hope and Gerard could tell that it was the perfect setup to ask him out.

“Do you—” As his brain scrambled to try and find the right words to ask Frank to join them, Gerard’s anxiety began to ramp up. Thoughts of Frank rejecting him plagued his mind. He probably wasn’t even interested in Gerard. Gerard was probably completely misreading Frank’s flirting when the guy was just trying to be polite. And even if Gerard could get away with pretending he was only asking Frank to hang out as a friend, would anybody in their right mind agree to hang out with a stranger at their apartment after spending less than thirty total minutes together?

“Fuck, is this weird? I think this is weird. You shouldn’t go over to a stranger’s house. That’s, like, Predator 101.” Gerard didn’t even realize that he hadn’t actually asked Frank to come over verbally before he’d gone off on his safety tangent.

“I mean, are you a predator?” Frank’s eyes were still glinting with amusement.

“Oh—no, not at all,” Gerard exclaimed, hoping that Frank wasn’t thinking he was creepy.

“So, were you going to ask me to come over to your place, then? For reasons other than wanting to wear my skin suit?”

“Yeah—do you want to come over and watch scary movies with us tonight?”

“I’d like that. What time?”

____________

When nine o’clock rolled around, Gerard was pacing Mikey’s apartment fiddling with anything that his hands fell on. He was currently lining up the spice jars on the counter when he heard a knock at the door. His socked feet slid on the kitchen tile, causing him to smack his hip painfully against the countertop, as he ran towards the entryway to greet Frank before Mikey could.

As it turns out, he didn’t have much to worry about because Mikey hadn’t moved an inch out of the armchair he’d sunk into earlier. His eyes were glued to the sixty-inch television screen where a film he’d been wanting to watch since he’d heard about it on the last Sundance lineup was wrapping up. Gerard pulled upon the door and revealed a smiling Frank with a large duffel bag slung over his arm.

“Hey Gerard,” Frank said as the man stepped to the side to let him in.

“Hey Frank, glad you made it.”

Together, they made their way into the living room where the coffee table sat stacked with snacks and DVDs. Mikey waved at Frank as he jotted down a few notes on the pad he kept next to the armchair, which Gerard knew was full of ideas and things he liked or disliked from the different movies he watched. He brought his attention back to Frank who had plopped himself just off the middle of the couch. Gerard blushed when he realized that because Mikey had taken the only armchair, he’d be sharing the couch with Frank, and from the looks of it, Frank wasn’t asking for much personal space. The punk unzipped the duffle bag and began pulling out its contents.

“I knew you guys had snacks already, so I brought fuzzy blankets instead. It’s not a movie marathon without one, right?”

Mikey’s hands shot up and grabbed at the air until Frank tossed the fleece over to him.

“I only had two, my apartment’s kind of small so I don’t need a bunch of blankets—but, like, we can share if you want. It’s a pretty big blanket.” Frank held up the fabric to show it and sure enough, it completely hid the shorter man and then some from Gerard’s line of sight. When he dropped his arms back down, Gerard was blushing. He started to point towards their linen closet in the hallway where they had some more blankets tucked away.

“It’s okay, I can just grab—” He was interrupted by a sharp kick from Mikey to his ankle. “Jesus H., I mean, sharing is good if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” Frank said, smiling softly. “So, what are we watching first?”

Mikey held up the case for _The Village_ and pressed the button to close the tray on the DVD player next to him. Gerard had poked fun at his brother’s laziness when he’d bought longer cords so he could put the DVD player on the end table next to the armchair, but he had to admit, it was nice to be able to switch out between movies without having to get up.

Gerard sat down on the couch with about a foot in between himself and Frank, until the tattooed man scooched a few inches closer, draping half of the blanket over Gerard’s lap. Frank leaned a little closer so they were shoulder to shoulder while Mikey started the movie and turned off the living room lights from his phone.

In the dark, Gerard was acutely aware of the man beside him, hyper-fixated on even the smallest motions—the way their arms brushed together every time Frank took a breath, how often he’d reach up to tuck back a loose strand of hair that kept slipping from behind his ear, even the way his thighs would tense during a suspenseful moment. Despite his newfound ability to zero in on Frank’s movements, he was blindsided when Frank reached over and laced his inked fingers through Gerard’s. The younger man cast a side glance at Gerard, silently asking if it was okay. Of course, instead of reacting in a sane way, Gerard panicked and tore his eyes away from Frank to stare at the screen. Thankfully, he began to relax and even smiled shyly over at the other man once he felt Frank’s thumb tracing small circles on his knuckle.

By the end of the third movie, Gerard was curled up against Frank’s side, the punk’s strong arm wrapped around him while he dazed off on Frank’s shoulder. His skin had gone pleasantly numb where Frank’s fingertips were running up and down his bicep. The credits were rolling and Frank’s hand tightened slightly on his arm while he waited to see if Mikey was going to put in another movie. Instead, his younger brother stood up from the recliner and stretched, turning to head towards his bedroom.

“I’m going to sleep. The couch pulls out if you guys want to crash, but keep your boxers on. I don’t want anyone’s bare ass on my cushions.”

Once they were alone, Frank turned so he was facing Gerard and took the man’s hands in his own.

“I should probably go. It’s pretty late,” he said.

“Are you sure? You can stay if you want.” Gerard didn’t want to seem too forward so he followed it up with a frantic, “so you don’t get, like, shot or anything on the way home.”

“You’re awfully concerned about my safety, aren’t you,” Frank laughed. “First with the ‘stranger danger’ speech and now you’re trying to keep me off the streets at night?”

“Well, I also tried to murder you with a shopping cart earlier, so maybe now I’m just trying to balance the scales.”

Frank pulled Gerard to his feet and tugged him towards the door after stuffing the blankets back into his duffel bag. They stood in the entryway of Mikey’s apartment, Frank with one hand on the door knob and the other intertwined with Gerard’s.

“Would you maybe want to get dinner with me sometime?” Gerard smiled and nodded, putting his number in the phone Frank handed to him while the punk started talking about a “rough around the edges” diner by his apartment that he would “literally kill for.” With his phone tucked safely back in his pocket, Frank pulled Gerard a step closer, reaching up to brush his fingertips across the pale skin stretched over Gerard’s cheekbone.

“I don’t want to wait for dinner. Can I—” Frank trailed off as he leaned in for a kiss. As Gerard felt the gentle pressure and the soft skin of Frank’s lips against his own, he couldn’t help but wish they were actually in a movie so he could watch this moment on repeat. The happiness that was spreading through his veins and causing his skin to feel like he was holding the end of a live wire was something he wanted to experience over and over again. All too soon, Frank was pulling away with a quick peck on Gerard’s cheek before pulling the door open the rest of the way and leaving the other man leaning somewhat desperately against the wall of the entryway so he wouldn’t follow Frank out of the apartment.

“Finally,” Gerard breathed. Noting the amused but puzzled look on Frank’s face, he followed up with, “Mikey said we’ve been having meet cutes, like, how people meet in romantic comedies, but I’m not very good at them because I didn’t get a date with you.”

“Until now,” Frank said.

“Exactly.” Frank grinned and leaned forward to press another quick kiss to Gerard’s lips.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist. You’re cute, ya’know?” Gerard flushed a brilliant red, smiling back at Frank. “So all it took was, what, three meet cutes and an impromptu date with your brother chaperoning? But I finally got the guy. Judd Apatow would be proud.”

“Mikey will be too. He literally made me watch a thousand movies this morning to teach me how to navigate a meet cute, and I still don’t think I did it right, but here we are. Plus, you know a film director, so you’re already well on your way to being his new favorite.”

“If it means getting to spend more time with you, he can talk to me about movies all he wants.”

Gerard stepped forward and kissed Frank again, loving the way the punk’s tattooed hands gripped at his waist to keep him close. When they finally broke apart for the last time, Frank leaned his forehead against Gerard’s while they caught their breath.

“Okay, I’m going. But I’ll text you, and hopefully see you soon for our dinner?”

“Yeah, soon.”

“Maybe tomorrow night?”

“That works for me,” Gerard said, smiling as Frank brushed another kiss against his lips.

“Tomorrow. Bye, Gerard.”

“Bye, Frank.”

A few minutes later when Gerard was tucked under a new blanket on the pull-out couch, he was all smiles. Especially after his phone dinged with a new text from an unknown number. He grinned into the darkness, his face barely lit from the dim phone screen as the happiness from the night and thoughts of dating Frank washed over him.

_I may not be the biggest fan of romcoms but I think this might be the start to my new favorite movie. Sleep tight. -xofrnk_


End file.
